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From Ryan Slevin Integrated Project Manager at Capital One Richmond, Virginia Area Blog, I'd like to add you to my professional network on LinkedIn. - Ryan Confirm that you know Ryan You are receiving Invitation to Connect emails. Unsubscribe © 2014, LinkedIn Corporation. 2029 Stierlin Ct. Mountain View, CA 94043, USA

If I were a professional blogger, today's blog would go a little something like this…


A friend recently suggested that I see a dermatologist for a full body scan. This basically means that a dermatologist looks at every inch of your skin, scalp to toes, and checks for anything irregular. With ridiculously fair Irish skin and a family history of skin cancer, I decided it was a good idea.


So I checked in to my friendly neighborhood dermatologist's office for my appointment this morning. I was a little nervous, I'm not gonna lie. I wasn't so much afraid of an unruly mole or an irregular freckle; it was more about having to show my heiney to a doctor. Just keepin' it real, folks.


The doctor tries to make things more comfortable. She starts with my hands and arms, making chit chat. She comments that I have a bunch of ink on my fingers and I explain that a pen exploded in my pocket last night and I can't scrub out the ink. It's a pleasant, light conversation….the only kind you want to have knowing that your derriere is about to hit the light of day.


Then I turn over. And even though I'm covered in a paper sheet, I can feel the anxiety creeping up. The moment of dread arrives; the doctor tells me she's going to "just pull the sheet down a bit." I braced, felt the cold air on my tush, and the next thing I heard, I will never forget:


"Holy CROW what is THAT??"


My first thought was that she had just uncovered some sort of alien growing out of my backside and I had somehow failed to notice it. It was all I could do to not JUMP off the table and hide my heiney in shame.


But I didn't. Instead I apprehensively asked, "What is it?!?!"


And then the doctor started laughing. And no, I'm not kidding --she was laughing out loud. It was a lot like my worst nightmare coming to life. At this point, I decided to wrap my booty back up in the 1/8" thick paper sheath and retain whatever withering shread of dignity I had left. I sat up.


Immediately, she realized what was going on and started apologizing profusely. And she explained that she saw something on my backside that she hadn't ever seen before. (GREAT.) Apparently there was a very large, irregular, mishapen dark blue blotch on my bum. She was shocked at first, until she realized that the ink I referenced from a conversation earlier must have exploded in my BACK POCKET, leaving a lark ink stain on my ass.


So do I have skin cancer? No. An alien growing out of my tuckus? Nope. Just a huge ink stain on my butt that I never saw but scared the crap out of my dermatologist.



And that, friends, is how today STARTED. No telling how it will end.

So I'm tired but I wanted to just document the quick update.

B and I had a fantasic fight this weekend. And by fantasic - I mean really productive. I think we got things boiled down to the need to talk more. Not about Sophie or groceries or the bills - but about ourselves. What's on our mind or not on our mind.

And it feels good to not be angry anymore.

Pissed

I know I have to talk about my feelings more.

Today, I got mad and really, truly disliked B because I felt like he withheld some things from me about the adoption.

I felt immediately better when I told him that the lack of communication is wrong and dishonest and that I deserve more.

But I’m between a rock and a hard place. I mean – what do you do when your partner doesn’t want something that you need?

I’ve been pregnant twice and both times he was too….whatever….to be excited. Both times I felt terribly alone. Now we’re adopting and he’s once again terrified. And I once again feel terribly alone. And I’m not even pregnant this time!

I don’t believe he wants to adopt. And that’s a terrifying concept because I know that one of the reasons I was put on this earth was to adopt.

He waits until the last possible moment to tell anyone anything. And then resents you for getting pissed off about it. And then blames your anger for why he doesn’t say anything in the first place.

I want a husband that is excited that we are growing our family. I want a husband that TALKS to me about how he’s feeling. I want a husband that doesn’t blame me for everything. I don’t have that husband today.

Growing your family is such a happy thing – I don’t get what his problem is. He’s never excited about anything. Well, actually, that’s not true. He got VERY excited over his new guitar.

I told him today that I was adopting with or without him. I knew before I said it that I should keep my mouth shut. But I said it anyway. I know I need to apologize for that but I just can’t fucking stand him right now. His crippling fear makes me lose respect for him.

It doesn’t help that I’m really sick. I think tomorrow will be a semi-sick day for me – and even though I’ve been sick for several days, B is no help.

I hate being married today. I just want him to go away and leave me alone for a while.

Yesterday was pretty tough. It was hard to sit with the feelings of loss and grief all day. But I knew that as the day went on and I got busy, I would be okay.

Brian, Sophie, and I went to a local nursery and picked out some gorgeous climbing rose bushes to plant in our memorial garden.

We turned the soil to make sure the roses have a happy place to live. Today we are going to mulch to make sure they can absorb all the moisture from the soil.

I also treated them with anti-black spot and miracle grow so they will bloom through the fall.

It felt good to DO something yesterday that was in honor of the baby we lost. (And technically, we didn't LOSE the baby, he/she died.)

It felt good to get dirty. And then get clean afterwards.